


Protection

by Barckas95



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 20:17:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21003557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barckas95/pseuds/Barckas95
Summary: Cute drabble, no violence. Sketch of non-canonical events.





	Protection

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, bad english.  
I tried to rewrite my text in English

— What's wrong with your hands, sir?...  
— None of your business.  
— It's just that if we live together now, I could try to cure them, sir. You will be better.

Jacob hesitated, but nevertheless agreed. Staci went for the first aid kit. Returning, he began to process his hands. When treated with an antiseptic, the hands began to burn. Even the foam appeared from the reaction. Staci saw it.

— Sir, you have an infection... This is not a joke. Why do you dislike yourself so much? You need to take care of yourself, otherwise everything may end badly for you because you launched wounds.

Jacob is silent, wants to send him, but is silent. Indeed, in general, he is right. He did not care for himself.  
Meanwhile, Pratt began to smear his hands with ointment. Rubbed with care, really worried about Jacob's health. Rubbing the ointment on the affected areas, he put everything back into the medicine cabinet and carried it away.

Seed looked at his hands, carefully spread with sticky ointment. Thinking that before him no one had cared so much about him. The guy constantly jumped in front of him, then he washes things, then he makes tea. Then he began to heal wounds. This time he was treating his hands. Last time, Pratt smeared his face with something... from which it really began to look better and healthier. Jacob recalled how he saved this Staci Pratt. How the "faithful" wanted to kill him, because... well, he didn’t fit them. But, he decided to take pity on him, and did not let him be crucified alive. Why exactly him - he did not know. But, one thing became clear - that he would not arrange further tests for that. Simply - he assigned to himself, as an assistant for the role of "bring-give", later it grew into some kind of strange relationship.  
For some strange reason, the policeman seized by their cult began to nearly coo over him. He once asked him why he is so worried about who imprisoned him. To which he simply replied that now he has no one but Jacob. Seed was moved, he was inspired by it. He imagined - and that he felt if he was deprived of everything, in captivity and without loved ones? The guy was clearly rather weak, and it was hard for him to live in such conditions. So he decided to get close to someone so as not to break completely. He alone could not resist the difficulties, he had such a psyche. And here it is - he saved him from death! leader of this region. So, he got attached to him. And so they lived - one protects him from everything, and the other takes care of his savior.

At first, Jacob Seed did not like all this running around him, “care” and strange attention. He even punched him in the face, finding an excuse when he accidentally spilled tea - criticized him for his crooked hands, and threatened that he no longer crawled like this in front of him. True, after a while he realized - that nevertheless, he likes when he pays attention to him. And everything came back.

— And for a long time you will smear my hands yet?  
— We must treat them in full, sir. The course of treatment is about a week.  
— Why do you want it? What will my cured hands give you, mmm? — Seed asks in the forehead.  
— Just... I want you to be healthy…  
— I asked not why. I ask what will it give you? You should not care about me, puppy.

Staci swallowed. He did not want to answer. But he knew that he was obliged to answer him.

— Sir, I care about you. Except you - I have no one else left. — he resolutely declares.  
— Do you care about a killer like me? Which crippled many destinies? Who holds you captive? And treats you not in the best way?

Pratt was silent. This is not the first time he has heard this. He knew, he knew very well - that Jacob knew perfectly well why. Simply, he wanted to hear it again, once again.

— Yes, you are dear to me. Sir, you are very dear to me anyway, no matter who you are. He answered calmly.

Jacob grinned. He heard what he wanted to hear. He began to look at his hands - surprisingly, but ... the redness was a little asleep. And the itch that he constantly experienced - began to disappear. He looked at his captive again, and mentally said to him "thank you."

— I'll make you some tea, hot. Sir, you are constantly running through the cold and damp. And warm tea will not let you catch the infection. And also... I baked you cupcakes. Sir, do you mind?...

Suddenly, Jacob became sad. He knew that the guy had caught the syndrome. Probably Stockholm syndrome. All the signs were on the face. He had not yet seen his captives take such care of him. This is the first who did not feel any fear or hatred before him. Apparently, his psyche is so distinguishable from others. In any case, he no longer posed a danger to him.  
Or maybe the truth - he just turned out to be very dear to him.

— Not against. Carry them too. — after a long pause, Jacob finally responded.


End file.
